


Whore

by TheAlphaFox



Series: Monologues Of 221B [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Irene, Brainy is the new sexy, Games, Gen, Internal Monologue, Memories, Not a Love Story, POV Irene Adler, Power Play, She Really Does Have Too Much Influence, Short, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 05:07:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6410065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAlphaFox/pseuds/TheAlphaFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My name is Irene Adler. </p><p>They call me a whore.</p><p>But I don't give a damn. I just smile to their faces and play them for fools behind their backs. As I've always done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whore

Life is a game. 

From a very tender age, I have been aware of that fact. From the days of playing the boys at school until they were declaring their undying love for me to the times I pressed my parents into letting me go out, there has always been a distinct advantage in knowing. 

If this makes me a whore, like they always said, I am past caring. My achievements so far make labels completely irrelevant anyway.

Knowing how to flirt, knowing how to snare someone, knowing how to leave someone wanting more. Knowing when to act innocently and when to show your true colours. Knowing that losing is never, ever as fun as winning, despite what the teachers say at Sports Day. It's not the taking part that makes a competition appealing, it's the taking other people down. The sooner we appreciate that in our own nature, the better off we will all be.

Ah, a hint of red lipstick- blood red, obviously- and my battle dress. I don't need anything else, I never have, and I'm sure I would still succeed with less. 

There are some things in life that I would consider deeply underrated. The gentle, sinuous tug of satin against bare skin, the cool kiss of perfume spritzed against the collarbones, the tap of a heel ascending a staircase. Funny, how all of life's little pleasures mean different things to different people.

I have made my living out of being different, unashamedly so. 

The government, politicians and bureaucrats, criminals and detectives alike. None can escape the Woman, the web I weave around their puny little lives, none have even tried.

Except... Sherlock Holmes. 

The only one who ever got close enough to play with in the proper way, the idea of how this game should be. He broke the rules, really, but I can't find it in my heart to begrudge him the victory.

No, Sherlock Holmes saved my life.

I'll definitely be back to play with him again, some day.


End file.
